


Sufficient

by Starryyeah



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Forbidden, Mikey cameo, Romance, Taboo, incest in a way, lovestory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryyeah/pseuds/Starryyeah
Summary: Written by leatherleaf. All I own is my oc. She did this as a request for me.





	Sufficient

Orange bandana tails are fucking annoying sometimes. They seemingly pop out of nowhere, skitter across my frame of sight like a blinding ray of light against my normal steely gray, and quickly scatter my concentration that took hours to gather. Orange bandana tails are hard to ignore. They are difficult to discourage and even harder to confine. They press the limits of my patience without trying. They hunger for, yet are seldom able to pay much, attention. Orange bandana tails, as enraging as they are, painfully remind me that neither sedation nor death are viable options to be rid of them.

And just as I wrestle with choosing to execute such justice with my bo staff or a full syringe, the orange tails of my little brother's bandana turn my frown into a smile and my warnings into laughter. Orange bandana tails have a way of lifting the heavy weight of stress from my shoulders and relax my furrowed brows. They can find the final strand of hope in hopeless situations. Hell, sometimes those orange bandana tails are the ONLY hope I have left. They are tireless and loyal. They are alive, connected to a soul that's forever youthful.

"To what do I owe this unbridled interruption?" I say with a humored tone, setting aside my latest project, knowing that I will not be completing it any time soon.

Michelangelo starts up with fast words and elevated tones. "I was playing Zombie Apocalypse III and made it to the underground level and I found a discarded rocket launcher and when I was about to add it to my inventory, a zombie jumped out of a pipe right above me and I screamed and paused my game but when I did… I pulled on the controller too hard and I tore the cord!" He finishes his tale with a disgruntled huff as he hands me the broken game controller.

I inspect the damage and look back at him with a raised brow. "You do recall this being the second time you've fallen into this unfortunate event?"

"Uh… yeah." He says.

I shake my head. "Kid, you're just too rough with your toys."

"I know! I'm sorry, but these games are getting more and more realistic! And I'm not a just a kid playing with toys. It's a hobby and I'm what's called a Gaming Enthusiast."

I have to smile, watching him glaze over the fact that he immerses himself into these virtual worlds for hours on end and wants his situation to be view as a mature concern. I suppose it is something we have in common. Only, where he explores different worlds and shoots monsters in his, I experiment and create in mine. "Mikey, I've got far more important things to do right now. Your request will have to wait. Use your spare controller for now."

"Awe, what? I can't! That one is so old. The shoot button sticks. I can't survive the apocalypse with a sticky button!" Mikey cries.

"Oh, can't you?" I immediately confuse him with my taunting response. I lean back in my chair, prop a foot up over my knee, and frown. I take in his big, pouty eyes, his hunched up shoulders, and the sagging mouth not knowing what to say. He looks as if I just refused to mend his broken leg. "Mikey, if I fix the controller now, it will take me about two hours to find the pieces needed, disassemble and reassemble just so you can break it again. It sounds like a waste of my time and yours… I'd much rather do other things."

"But Donnie!" Mikey kneels on the floor next to me, bumping his knee against the wheel of my chair. He grasps the arms of my chair, blocking me in and practically lays his head in my lap. "I know I should treat my things better and I know your time is important. But you're all I've got! And you're the smartest! AND If you don't fix it soon, Raph's gonna come down and bully me off the TV so he can watch football and I won't be able to save my game! Please help me!"

He is such a big baby. I look down at him and smile. It's so very hard for me to say no to him when he gets like this. It's probably why I love getting my little brother to the point of begging before I give in. "OK, Mikey. How about this; I'll fix it just once more. In the meantime, I suggest moving your gaming system out of the way so no one accidently turns it off. And to avoid this issue of breaking cords in the future, perhaps we should shop online for two new cordless controllers and some batteries. We'll ship them to my PO Box and have them here in less than a week."

His freckled cheeks widen into a smile and his bright, blue eyes sparkle. "Really, bro?"

"Yes."

"Can I get any color I want?

"I suppose. So long as it's not too expensive."

"Then, I'm definitely getting a lightening orange one and a midnight purple one in honor of you!"

"That sounds perfect." I say.

"Donnie, you're the best!"

"As long as you think so, Mikey." And I pat his head in a visibly patronizing way, the tips of my fingers brushing against those troublesome orange bandana tails.

Then he closes his eyes and smiles with glee, chuckling softly.

Yes! I inwardly rejoice… that's the reaction I so longed to see. Over the years, I have found it to become easier and easier to pull at my little brother's emotions. I'm now a pro at dampening, then uplifting him. It's a secret and guilty pleasure for me to make him cry just for the purpose of making him laugh again. For a while, I had thought that there was something wrong with me, like I was experimenting on my most vulnerable sibling, taking in the thrill of being able to manipulate or control him. Why do I love hurting him and healing him? Why do I enjoy torturing him? No, torture is too strong a word. I enjoy being the one that makes him happy. In a world where most people would fear us, I just want to add that much more happiness into Mikey's life, even at the cost of bringing him low for a while.

But there is another side to all of this. It is not just Mikey's happiness that perpetuates a rush inside of me. It wasn't until a few years ago did I understand my strange behavior and why the outcome I strived for was only half as gratifying as I secretly needed it to be. Luckily, fate had given me a way to satiate that hunger.

My work cell could not have buzzed at a better time. Mikey stands as I reach for the cell in by belt. A text message. Thee text message. I open it and send a quick text back. I grab my hoodie and begin to put on my khakis and shoes.

"W-what are you doing?" Mikey asks me.

"It's work."

"But, isn't today your day off? Are they allowed to get you to work whenever they want?

"I'm on call on my days off, Mikey. You know that." I lace up and shoes and pull on my 'Dial-a-Dweeb' official polo.

It is true that I keep long and late hours when I work the customer service line. But in doing so, I've becoming the most reliable and valuable IT employee in the company. For someone with a fake ID and hired via remote interview, I'm paid well and pretty much left to my own devices so long as I keep my quality and quota above standard, of which I'll never have a problem.

My cell buzzes again and I quickly remove the black flip phone from my belt and open it. I type in my response quickly and put it away. I have to bite down hard on the inside of my mouth to keep from smiling.

Mikey looks at me strangely. "Where did you get that phone? Where is your T-phone?"

I throw on my hoodie and turn to face him. "It is my work phone. I did not think it would be wise to give my employer the illegally acquired, unlisted number to my very illegal, unregistered, T-phone." My phone chirps again.

"Are you really dialing in? And why do you have to put on clothes to make calls?"

"It's a house call, Mikey." I say flatly.

"Donnie, you know how Leo feels about us going up top alone. It's dangerous."

"It's fine. I do it all of the time."

"I know that, but Leo doesn't know how often you go… You might be seen."

"I only take the house calls when the customers are gone and only when it requires a hands on solution. And Leo doesn't have to know everything we do."

"But, Donnie…"

"I'll keep doing this because I don't want to lose my job." I interrupt him resolutely.

Mikey sighs. "Can't you just say no this time? You were on the phone all night helping people. Besides, you were going to fix my controller one last time… remember?"

I hear my brother's worry for me- and his game controller- but can't adhere. My thoughts trail back to my phone and the message thereon. Maybe I would have said no this time. But my brother and his antics have pushed me too far to let this go.

Just thinking about it, I find myself absently wringing my hands and I force them to my sides. I have to do a better job at hiding my anxiousness to leave. "Thank you, Mikey. I understand what you are saying. Let me assure you that I am well aware of the risks and will make sure to keep my ninja senses alert. I am working towards a goal and saying no to my employer may delay that goal. Once I am promoted, my demand to take calls will be significantly diminished." That last bit I say is true, just not true for my wanting to depart right now. "I'm telling you this because you are my brother and I know you want the best for me."

Mikey nods hesitantly. "I do…OK, how long will you be out?"

The corner of my lips curl. "This should be a quick in and out visit. No more than a few hours. And when I come back, you are my top priority."

"Cool! Can I use your computer to order the new controllers while you're out?"

"Alright. Do you remember your password?" I learned long ago that my brothers are nosy, so I gave them all access to the computer, making sure they log in under their own user ids so they don't corrupt my files or lurk around to see what I've been doing. I've assured them that so long as they keep their passwords to themselves others cannot use or change anything on their individual desktops. I did not, however, tell them that as the administrator, I can see everything that they've done and bring up the history of all the sites they've visited and, oh boy, what variety of interests my brothers have.

"Yes, I remember my password." Mikey says.

I pick up my work bag and hand him my credit card. "Don't go overboard."

Mikey jumps into the swivel chair and taps on the keyboard excitedly.

I leave quietly.

…

I pull up to the customer's address in my small, hatch back. I make sure to keep my hood on and my head low as I jog up the stone steps to the tall and narrow townhouse. I laugh to myself as I remove the front door key from the mailbox and let myself in.

In the rare times that I do make house calls and it's a nice place like this, there is always a chance for hidden cameras for added security. I work quickly and always keep my face hidden. This address, however, does not have cameras. I've checked. Thoroughly.

I set my bag down, take off my hoodie and turn on the television. I check for the wifi connection and see, just like it said in the text, that the connection is lost. There are only a handful of reasons why this could be. All of them are pretty simple solutions that can be remedied in minutes. But because the average consumer is also pretty simple, individuals like me are gainfully employed.

I find the wifi box and follow its cord to the wall where I see it is NOT plugged in.

"I'm so glad you're here. I'm home sick from school and I know I'd be bored out of my mind if I couldn't binge watch all 6 seasons of The Workplace."

I whip around and see the teenage girl standing at the bottom of the staircase in her skimpy PJs. Skimpy, as in short drawstring shorts draped around her bare hip bones and a matching, thin- almost transparent- spaghetti strap tank top. Skimpy.

She looks at me and I at her, all of her, and I smile. "I think I've found the problem, young lady." I hold up the cord. "The plug must have slipped out of your socket."

"Oh, well could you put it back in for me?" She asks softly.

I bend down and fit the plug into the socket.

She giggles. "And put it in harder this time so it doesn't come out."

I chuckle. "Not a problem." The wifi box beeps and turns green. I slowly make my way over to her, noting her impish grin and heightened breathing. "Is there anything else you'd like me to install?"

"Yeah." She giggles again. "There sure is, Mr. Fix It." She laughs. "I'd really like it if you'd…" She starts to fall out laughing. "Damn it! I'm sorry, Donnie. This is stupid!"

I take a step back and sigh. "Beth."

"I'm sorry! It's just…"

"You really can't pull it together?" I say not at all hiding my annoyance.

"Oh, pah-lease. Imagining that your dick looks like a-a microchip does not turn me on!" She continues to laugh.

"You said you'd do it this time. It's just something I wanted to try."

"I'm not a machine, Donnie. Or do you DO those?" She doubles over, holding her stomach.

I look down at her shaking her head and her copper ponytail falls over her shoulder and rests between her bare breasts underneath her shirt. I almost lose my nerve and consider walking out of the door. But THAT would be stupid. Look at the way she's dressed? She WANTS something to happen.

To think of her as just acting like a kid wouldn't only be unfair, it would be creepy on my part. Technically, me being 20 and she only 17, our meeting like this is illegal in more ways than one. But when I first met her, everything I saw drew me to her. Strangely, I can say the same for her about me.

…

It was six months ago I got the call to come to 3757 S. Walnut Road. There was a problem with our company's Computer Memory Cleaning software causing bugs in the customer's computer. The customer said they would be out at work and would leave a key in the mailbox for me. I sit in my car until I see the customer leave.

I walk in cautiously, listening for any others. I pull out my gizmo that searches for any security devices, finding only the home system that was deactivated for my visit. Being assured I am alone, I set down my things and go to work.

I 'm an hour in, just completing the coding issue on the computer when the front door swings open. I look up from over the computer. From the corner of the room, I see her standing in the foyer; a girl popping her gum and typing into her phone. She's wearing a school uniform; white dress shirt, green sweater vest with the Catholic school's emblem, and matching green pleated skirt. Her hair, the color of a warm sunset, is in two pigtails on either side of her head. I quickly throw my cap and hood on and duck my face behind the monitor. I have no idea how I am going to get out of here unseen.

She puts her phone away and begins to walk to the kitchen when she notices the 'Dial-a-Dweeb' tech bag on the floor. She looks up and over at the stranger sitting at her mother's computer.

"Hey." She says.

"Hey." I say.

"I forgot my mom said you guys were coming to fix the computer."

"Yes, I'll be leaving soon. Almost done." I look up to see her nod and then back down at the screen, my fingers flying over the keyboard, finishing the receipt I need to send to my employer for proof of work and so I can get paid.

"Well, I came home early from school because I was sick so…" She was obviously lying. "Don't tell my mom."

"My lips are sealed, kid." I say quickly.

I hear her walk away. I hear a fridge open and close. I here a can of soda click and fizz open. I hear nothing. I quickly log off of the computer and collect my things. I stand and rush for the door when I hear her return. I walk back to the computer when she comes into to the living room's archway.

"You forget something?" She asks me.

"Uh, yeah. Something else I need to check." I sit back down and face the wall, pretending to scan through my manual.

"Can I see what you're working on?" She asks.

"No! No… I… I'm sick too and don't want it to spread. Don't you have some homework you could do in your room until I go?"

She sucks her teeth. "Yeah, but I need the computer to do it." I hear her drop her bag. I look over and she's lounging on the couch. "I'll just read 'til you're done."

This is just great. I turn back to the computer and open it up again. I'm going to have to wait her out. Hopefully she gets hungry again and goes to the kitchen, or her she has to go to the bathroom. I sigh and pull up solitaire. I look up over the monitor and see her feet up on the couch a book in her hands 'Alien Contact: The True Stories'

I laugh, a little too loudly, catching her attention.

"What?" She asks.

Shit. "N-nothing." I say shaking my head.

"You don't believe in aliens?" She asks.

I roll my eyes. Oh well. "It's not that. I just didn't think extra-terrestrials were on the educational curricula for today's youth."

"It should be." She says. "There's too much evidence already. Aside from all of the cover up from our governments, and the crazies spouting nonsense, space is too big to think we're the only ones. There are billions of stars in our Milky Way alone. A million of them should have planets. Why would it be so hard to believe that a thousand of them could have life, a hundred of those, intelligent life?"

I look over the monitor at her. Her face is hidden behind the book. Her bare legs kick over the cushion of the couch and I can't help notice the freckled pattern over her slightly tanned skin. Her open-mindedness… and her posture intrigue me. "That's a very interesting view you have there."

I put my head down as she looks up over her book. "Go ahead and think it's weird. Don't act surprised the day they finally come."

I chuckle at her. If only she knew how many aliens I've met in my short life. "What would you do if you were right, if you got to meet someone from another world?"

I hear her sit up. "I'd ask to go back with them."

I stare at the computer screen. "You'd leave Earth behind that quickly? Wouldn't you miss your family and friends?"

She pauses for a moment. "It'd be worth it. I'd see and experience things no one else has ever dreamed of! Sure, Sci –fi books and movies may come close. But actually experiencing it would be enough for me. And I'd be very popular. I'd tell them everything I knew about Earth. And I'd learn everything I could about their culture. I'd live out my life in a futuristic society. It would be amazing!"

After her ramblings I can't help but laugh. "Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

"Hey, I'm not flying blind. Maybe if you'd check out some of Tyson's or Hawking's documentaries, you wouldn't be laughing."

I raise a brow, and jerked myself back to stay hidden behind the computer. I almost look right at her! "You know who Stephen Hawking and Neil DeGrasse Tyson are?"

"Of Course! I love science and the future and… just people who think beyond themselves, who can envision possibilities becoming facts."

"I agree wholeheartedly! Did you see Tyson's lecture at Harvard? It was great!"

"I have the link saved on my phone! And I have a copy of Hawking's book in my room." She says.

I see her coming over to where I am and I cough and shoo her away with my manual to her to keep back. When she sits back down, I relax.

"That's really cool." I say.

"I never really get to talk to others about stuff like this." She says.

"Me either." I clear my throat. I purse my lips and roll my eyes at myself, wondering why I'm entertaining this girl. I finish my solitaire game on the computer and open up Mind Sweeper. "If you were able to leave Earth, would you really be fine with being the only human? It could get lonely."

"It's not likely I'd be the only one they'd take, so I think I'll be OK." She says.

I bite my lip. "Not to sound like another dumb guy, but don't girls your age dream about getting married and having 2.3 kids and a white picket fence?"

"Well, if I am stuck here, that would be the only choice I have. If I get to travel to the other side of the galaxy and live in a metropolis in the sky or a resort on the moon… I guess I'd have to hope an alien guy would want to be with me and give me 2.3 half-alien kids."

Now this conversation is getting good. "I'm asking you this because you seem like a level-headed individual… Are you saying that you'd be open to a relationship with someone from another world?"

After a moment of thought she says. "Sure, it's what's on the inside, right?" She shrugs.

I go a step further. I have to. My mind won't let this go. "If you met an alien today, and you found them attractive in the right ways… you'd consider marrying them someday?" What am I thinking asking her that? She hasn't even seen me. For all she knows, I'm a nasty, nerdy, old man trying to have an inappropriate conversation with a minor. In my profession as a ninja, I've been called many things; monster, creep, kid in a mask, asshole in a turtle costume, rarely a mutant… and most often, an alien. It's my green skin and dark brown eyes, and three-fingered hands. I am an earthling. I was born, er,, hatched here. And I'm certain that my ancestors have been here longer than any mammal.

I hear the smile in her voice as she responds. "I don't know if I'd go that far… But I wouldn't miss the chance to sleep with him."

I choke and go into a coughing fit.

She giggles." Sorry to startle you. I bet you didn't think you'd meet me while on the job!" She gets up and leaves the room. "I'll get you some water." She disappears down the hall and into the kitchen.

I scramble to gather my things and run to the door. I pick up my bag and see her in the corner of my eye as I open the door.

"Wait!" She yells.

I keep my hand on the outside latch. I can just leave and she would NEVER hear from me again. "I've got to go."

"I got your water here. Is the computer fixed?"

I take a breath. "Yes. Your mother will get the invoice in her email. See ya, kid."

"Hey, stop! Don't call me kid. You don't sound much older than I am. Look, I know you probably have other places to go but… it's been a while since anyone has been interested in ANYTHING I've had to say, and you didn't think I was out of my mind, did you? If I hadn't have skipped school, we wouldn't have met, so I won't think anything if you stay and talk a bit. What's your name?"

Why can't I walk out away from her? In the brief moment I caught glimpses of her, she just felt so familiar to me. I don't know why. "Did you mean everything you said, about aliens?

"Yeah. Why?" She asks.

I step back in and shut the door. I push the door closed, giving her a full view of my hand. "My name is Donatello. What's your name?"

She gasps. I hear her step back. She stutters. "B-Beth, I'm Beth."

"Beth. I'll leave now if you tell me to. I don't want to scare you or hurt you. I'm just a person who's trying to make a living in this world."

"I'm not s-scared." She whispers.

I turn around and swiftly take off my hood and remove my cap. I don't react when I see her big, blue eyes bulge and she drops the bottled water. I bend down and pick it up. I look at her and smile. "Greetings." I say jokingly as I hold out the water to her.

She laughs nervously. She takes a step closer and takes the bottle in her hand. She stares at me for a long while. She no longer looks shocked or afraid… but confused. "You said your name is Donatello?"

I nod. "You can call me Donnie, for short."

"Has it always been your name or… did they change it when you came here?"

This is the time where I can tell her the whole truth or play into her wonderment. Figuratively, we are from two different worlds. We live by different rules and have different customs. But what would that matter? She's never going to meet my family, will never see my home. I could be from down the street or from 1 million light years away. I take her hand in mine and smile. "It is the only name I've ever known to have. I came into being her when I was very young."

She gasps again. "Oh my god! So, it's true then? You're here! Does this mean I can go back with you?"

"No, Beth. You can't go home with me."

"But… why?" She almost sounds heartbroken.

"Because… I can't go back either. Earth is my home now."

"Oh…" She says and rubs my hand. "Oh, are you stranded here? I'm so sorry. Are there others like you here? Where do you live?"

"There is… no one else. Just me. But, I'm fine. I have a home, well-hidden."

"Can I see your home here on Earth?"

"I do have a father though. He wouldn't approve of me talking to a human."

She keeps staring into my eyes and smiling. "I can't believe it… you're really here."

Her soft hand rubs the side of my face. It feels so nice, more comforting than I could have imagined. I start to think about all that she had said. I start to think about myself and my brothers and… "You were wrong about one thing, Beth." I say.

"What is that?" She asks.

"Being one against the world is very lonely… I will never know what it's like to have real friends, a real home… real companionship. It hurt when you said how easy it would be for you to get over it."

"No, I'm sorry… I… I didn't mean to… you don't have to be alone, Donnie."

"What do you mean?" I look to her with a somber face, and a crack in my voice. "I've been here for twenty years, wanting to get close but afraid to, screamed at, shot at, living in constant fear from those I want to befriend. Why would all of that change by meeting you?"

"Because… I…" Beth drops the bottled water again and hugs me. "I'm here. I'll be your friend, Donnie. You're not a monster. You're just… lost. It's not your fault."

I'm surprised by how immediate her comfort level has risen with me. Is she nuts? Is there something about her that I've missed? I'm starting not to care.

She pulls back and smiles. "Do you have anywhere else to go right now?"

"I have a few hours before I need to get back." I say warily.

"Great. My mom won't be home until six." She takes my hand and leads me upstairs to her bedroom. And I just let her. I discover that she is suddenly and oddly attracted to me. She discovers that I am a turtle… and a man.

…

That morning was crazy. I thought she was crazy. But who am I to judge?

It might have been a kinky fantasy of hers to be taken by a being from another planet. For me, it was an easy choice. I had never had sex before and if all it took was to pretend that I'm an alien, so be it. It was amazing to hold and be held. After I left, I gave her my work cell number, and told her to make an appointment whenever she needed something fixed.

It wasn't hard to come up with a back-story; I was too young to remember my original home, but my father said it was a beautiful, swamp-like environment with beings that looked just like me. I don't know why we left, or why we can't return.

She has had very little questions after that. She often says that I may look 'other-worldly' but my mannerisms are very much humanlike. It is easy for her to treat me normally because I act and speak like a human. I know current events and have a sense of humor. It is why she is so prone to tease me now. I thought role-playing would be a fun and sexy thing to do. I guess she can't appreciate the concept. In some ways, she is still so young.

As she continues to laugh at my failed Mr. Fix It routine, I push up against her and meet my mouth with hers. I pick her up and wrap her legs around me. I have her up against the wall, ravaging her mouth and all the way down her freckled neck and shoulders.

She gasps. "Take me upstairs."

"Ready already?" I chuckle and nip her collarbone.

"I've been ready since I texted you, Donnie." She coos in my ear.

I march up the steps, still laying claim to her warming flesh and kick open her bedroom door.

She pushes back off of me and says. "Not here. The door over there."

I don't argue as I make my way and into the room down the hall. We go in and lay her on the bed. I look around briefly as I take my polo off. It's plain room, very neat, in blue and brown tones. The drawn curtains make it dim. She rips off her shorts and moves to undo her ponytail, but I stop her.

"Whose room is this?" I ask.

"No one's." Beth moves to the edge of the bed and kisses me, pulling me onto the mattress.

I lay over her and kiss her slowly. I feel her undo my pants and I kick them off. I wrap the covers around our bodies and a strong, musky scent of cologne fills my sensitive nostrils. I whip the covers away. "God, who's room is this, your dad's?"

"No, I don't have a dad."

"Well then, why the hell does the bed smell like this? Is this your mom's room?" I sit up and wave a pillow over my face.

"It's my brother's room." She mumbles.

I jump out of the bed. "Why would you want to have sex in your brother's room? I didn't even know you had a brother. Is this some sick joke you're trying to pull on him?"

"No! He's not here! He doesn't live here!" She yells.

I shake my head. "Why are we in here then? You like this bed better?" She shakes her head. "If he doesn't live here… then why did you spray that cologne in the… why are we?"

She sighs. "Donnie, I'm sorry. Could you please come back and sit down?"

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

"I'll tell you once you get into bed with me."

I kind of like the way she says that, so I get back in bed with her. She guides me to lie down and she kisses my cheek. She looks me over and smiles. "I just wanted to try something different. We've done it so many times in my room and once in the bathroom…"

"A few times in the living room and once in the kitchen." I finish.

"Yeah… so I thought this place could be another and…"

"And what?" I ask her.

She closes her eyes and holds her breath. The she stares at me and lets the words fall out her mouth. "You remind me of my brother."

"Your brother?" I ask and She nods. "In what way?"

"Our shared interests, how you make me laugh, how easily it is to get on your nerves… and…" She slips away from my hold and goes to the dresser. From the top drawer, she pulls out a photograph. She sits back on the bed beside me hand hands me the picture.

I look. "Oh, my god."

"It's wild right?" Beth says as she lies back down next to me. "He's dead though. Two years go in Iraq."

I hold up the picture, catching the light. The young man standing next to a younger Beth, looks very much like me. Without the green skin or shell of course. The buzz cut shows the similar shape of our heads, and we have same eyes and small, uncommitted smile.

"So?" She whispers.

"So what?" I ask, still mesmerized by the photo.

She groans and hides her face against my plastron. "You think I'm a sick fuck, don't you?"

Ah, now I get it. The bed, the drawn curtains, the cologne, and the photo… Is she a sick fuck? That is a fair question. It is not common to have such feelings for siblings. And uncommon things are usually frowned upon by the social order. Other studies show the infatuation trait was formed back when Homo sapiens roamed the lands with Neanderthals. The 'keep it in the family' rule was imperative to survival. Then, in time when royals primarily ruled the world, they married off daughters to cousins and uncles and brothers, believing that royal blood should not mix with commoners. This brought on many problems during pregnancy and postnatal abnormalities, including insanity. This anomaly has also been found in small isle nations that could only turn to each other to reproduce the next generation- reference Irish Madness.

When it was a necessity for the future of a species, joining with one's brother was commonplace. Nowadays, the thought alone sours the stomachs of a multitude of people whose only difference from the generations that came before them is that modern people have a choice.

"What was your brother's name?" I ask.

"Michael."

I shiver. I actually shiver. She sits up and looks at me. "Are you OK?"

"I don't think you're sick… Did you have these feelings for him before or after he went overseas?"

"I've felt this way for years. My friends would rave about boys in rock bands and vampires in movies, but I would dream of Mikey."

I do my best not to tense up against her. Her words stir memories in me that are hard to forget.

…

Michelangelo was nine years old when he caught a severe case of the flu. I had already survived a mild 24 hours of my own sickness. But, my baby brother's showed no sign of breaking after two days. Raph and Leo had to stay away from him. Splinter was out trying to find anything that could help his youngest son. I was the only one who could be around him. At the time, I was terrified. He was shivering but his skin was hot and his head was sweating. He wanted the covers on him but they irritated him. He kept groaning, asking for water but never drinking it. I sat by his bed, rubbing a damp washcloth over his face, watching as his chest rose and fell slowly. I though he would die right in front of me. I promised myself, for my family's sake, that I would learn everything I could about medicine so that they'd never have to suffer like this again.

Mikey tried to sit up but could not. He turned to me, achy and stiff and said he had to pee. The bathroom was too far for him to walk, and I wasn't strong enough to drag him there. I retrieved an old aluminum pan from the kitchen, gently sat him up and placed the pan between his legs. I turned away to give him some privacy.

"Donnie… I can't open up." He said to me in a strained voice.

I turned back and looked at his pained face and exhausted limbs. I wasn't grossed out. My brothers and I have seen our nether regions many times. I felt so bad for him, too sick to complete such a simple task. At that point I just wanted his suffering to end; whether through miraculous healing or a quick death, I just didn't want him to be in agony anymore!

I sat back next to him, put the dampened cloth over his eyes and coaxed him out of his private pouch. He let out a gratifying exhale as he relieved himself in the pan. After, I set the pan on the floor and padded him clean with paper towel. I held him mildly to press him back inside, but then something happened.

He held his hand over mine.

"Please, just hold it. It's the only thing that doesn't hurt." And tears streamed down his face from beneath the rag over his eyes.

At the time, neither he nor I knew the potentially sexual aspect of his request. We were so young and sheltered. Our only interest of the human world was from a curious distance. My brother was sick and tormented, and I was willing to do anything to ease him.

So, I didn't let go of him. I put my head down on his mattress and hid my face in the crook of my arm. With my other hand I massaged, rubbed, and comforted my brother. He sighed when I did certain things or moved my hand in certain ways. I kept doing it. He began to change in my hand. I became worried and took my hand away.

"Mikey?" I asked him.

"Don't stop." He rasped.

I saw a peaceful look on his face. He was no longer shivering. Aside from the fever and sweating, he looked so much better. I continued to soothe him.

I listened to his breathing and the soft hums buzzing through his lips. He sounded happier than he had in the past two days.

Something started to happen, when he grabbed my shoulder and jerked up. I thought the pain had returned.

"Mikey!"

He slammed back down onto his bed. "More… more…" he shook his head and the rag fell from his eyes.

His glimmering, blue eyes shook me and I couldn't look away. What was this expression? A pit in my stomach grew. My entire body was frozen in place, except for my hand upon my brother.

His breathing became erratic, and his tongue lolled outside his mouth. "Ah.. AH… Donnie… Big Brother!"

He when stiff as a board, as if someone sent an electric shock through his weakened body. I felt him squirm in my hand. I let go and stepped back as I saw him fall limp on his mattress. For a moment, he didn't breath and neither did I.

My mouth was dry and I could hardly form his name. What if he didn't answer?

"Whoa…" he said and a small smile crept over his lips. "I feel much better." He looked at me. "Can you give me some water?"

On wobbly knees and walked over to him, took one of the glasses of water from his nightstand and put it to his lips. He drank down the whole thing in a few gulps. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. I tucked him in and… and kissed his forehead. I left his room, just walking around the lair, very confused, but completely relieved.

The next day Michelangelo was up and healthy as ever. We all ate a big breakfast together and life went on. It wasn't much later that while scavenging for medial books, I happened upon a discarded adult videotape. I watched it alone and discovered what I had done to my brother. For a while I had felt ashamed. Though it was an innocent act at the time, I didn't feel any less guilty. Funny, it never seemed to phase Mikey as something strange. Whether delusion made him forget, he thought it was a dream, or he had been too embarrassed to bring it up, he and I have never talked about that night. We've treated each other the same. No emotions outside our sibling relationship had ever come about. I was grateful.

Later, a few years into our adolescence, I revisited that that videotape and I practiced the act on myself. It brought back memories, the sounds, the words, and the feelings… It did feel great. This brought up questions in my mind. What did it mean for me now that I know what this was? And why, oh, why… did I want to do it again?

With him?

…

I know that I'd never. I know it is wrong. We are men and we are brothers. But that doesn't make the desire for certain events to take place go away so easily. Every so often I'll have that dream and I awake to messy sheets. I don't beat myself up over it anymore. I chalk it up to nostalgia. I love Michelangelo, but I am not in love with him. I don't want to have sex with my brother, but I can't deny that there is something in me that craves to make him happy like that again, see that electric look in his eyes again. The look that froze me, that set me on fire, that still arouses me subconsciously ONLY because it was technically my first sexual experience. I know it will never happen. I know I'll never have that. I know. But, I need something.

I look at Beth and she's looking at me.

"I told Michael everything the night before he was deployed." She says. "I don't think he believed me. He thought I was just scared that I'd never see him again… We both loved outer space and talked all the time about if there really were aliens on other planets. He told me that the only reason he wouldn't come back home is because the aliens came and abducted him… They never found his body so… I imagined that's why."

Her eyes become glassy and I hold her close.

"When I first saw you, Donnie… I wasn't afraid. I thought, 'finally! I can finally go see my brother… and when I got a good look at you, your eyes, your smile… I thought… damn Michael, look at what those aliens did to you. Please, take me with you…" She caresses my face.

I close my eyes and calm my nerves. I can take this moment in either direction. At the chance of risking this relationship, I roll and sit her on top of me. "C'mon, little sis. Don't be sad."

"W-what?" Her blue eyes widen, her freckled cheeks flush, and her orange ponytail slips over her shoulder.

Damn it! In this dim light she looks almost perfect. "You're still not good at role playing." I smirk at her and can see the realization hit her as my muddied form plays into her secret fantasy.

"Oh… I… I've really missed you." Tears fall from her eyes.

"I'm right here now." I say as I rub over her thighs.

She shudders. "This… is so wrong. Are you sure?" Beth tries to pull away, but I keep her right there.

"Love is never wrong." I say. I can see the conflict in her eyes. She wants to let go, but doesn't want to hurt me.

"Donnie… I… I don't want to use you."

I shake my head and hold her hands. "We'll both have to use our imagination… I want to do this for you. I want to be whatever you need me to be… whoever."

Beth nods and lies down over my chest. Her warm breath washes over my skin and I feel her shiver. She whispers in my ear. "Mikey…"

I immediately succumb to my own illusions. "That's right… Mikey."

We kiss and hold onto each other so tightly. Under the covers, the aroma of her brother's cologne fill her senses as I fill her wanting body. In the midst of our love, she mixes up our names.

"Oh, Donnie… yes… Mikey." She moans.

To hear her sweet voice call out or names in this bed… is so intensely satisfying to me. Her soft, feverish touch, her mouth pleading to me… to her brother… it's a cacophony of sensual bombardment. She feels so small, so tight.

"Don't stop." She whispers.

I kneel and join to her from behind and in the darkness of the room, through my hazy, euphoric stupor I wrap my hand around that orange ponytail and see the green cloth around the skin of her back and…

"Ah… AH… Donnie…" She cries.

Yes… please say it!

"Big Brother!" My young sibling begs to me as I rush into them.

YES! I'm your big brother and you're my little…

"Mi—Ah!" I pull on those orange tails hard and ride the waves of electricity through me.

This is what I've needed, what I've longed for. Are you happy, truly happy, my love?

I am.

As I come back to myself, the vision is gone as swiftly as it came, and Beth is in my arms once again.

"That was amazing." She sighs.

"Yes… it was." I smooth her loose tresses down her back; the hair band is missing.

"Thank you, Donnie, for indulging me. I feel better now that you know… could we do this again? It doesn't have to be next time. Like I said before, I don't want to use you."

I stare at her with cold eyes, making her uncertain. "I do not like being used, Beth. No matter how much you may hope for it, no matter how many times we sleep together, your brother is never coming back."

Taking the wind out of her sails. She shrinks back and looks away. Hidden shame and loathe start to emerge. Then I turn her cheek to face me. I look at her and smile the way her lost brother did in the photograph. It wasn't hard to do. "But, I also know that I never want to deny you anything. I'll make love to you however you need. If you need me to be Mr. Fix it, I will. If you need me to Donnie, I am… if you need me to be your big brother…" I kiss her gently. "You will me my little sister."

And there it is; the bright, blue eyes, freckled cheeks, endless smile and waves of orange atop her head, looking at me and loving me, and showing me everything I've ever wanted.

Almost.

This is enough for now.

This is OK.

This will do… It's…

Sufficient.

…

The End.

...


End file.
